Amy Sedaris said she liked my owl necklace and wanted to steal it. Her gay mafia communicated this to me. Do not speak directly to the Amy Sedaris.
This was a weekend of terrible customer service. A weekend of Polish diners, subtly themed emo bars, and outrageously themed Southern restaurants. A weekend of starting dance parties in 24 hour diners in Alphabet City.
Staying out until 5 am, only to marvel at the Christmas decorations on the walk home from the subway. These nights make me feel like a nouveau Holly Golightly. Avoiding awkward encounters with boys at bars simultaneously while flirting with the hipster bartender; wandering into your friends at the diner at 3 am and promising you're not drunk but that you're just here to dance!
Apartment number three smells strongly of cooked eggs.
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